That's what you told me in the pages of your heart;
that you were closest to me,
even when I couldn't see you.
You died.
But you claim you live in me
and you aren't wrong.
Because,
I feel you
I talk you
I am you, sometimes.
Well,
you correct me,
and tell me, all the time.
Taye, you are me, all the time.
I nod my head on the phone when you remind me,
bundling my lips into a tight smile.
But can I just savour the moment:
knowing that when you're not with me, you're thinking of me,
that you're alive somewhere in me?
And that the voice I hear on the phone is truly you,
somehow here but not here?
